Let’s Talk About It…

Last night, I stood on the balcony of my stateroom, surrounded by nothing but ocean. It was so dark—truly dark—with the exception of a soft glow where the moonlight stretched across the water’s surface. It was beautiful, and in that quiet moment, I let the peace of it settle into me.

It brought back a memory of a conversation I once had with Jarrett when he was deployed. He told me about being on the deck of the ship at night when they turned off every single light. There’s a term for it, though I can’t quite recall it now. But he described how the sky would be overcast, with no stars, no moonlight—just darkness. Complete and total. He said he could hold his hand up in front of his face and not see a thing. I can’t even begin to imagine what that kind of darkness feels like.

Sometimes, I think we create our own darkness. Whether it’s through worry, fear, or the weight of things we can’t quite let go of, we find ourselves in a space where we can’t—or won’t—let the light in. But here’s the thing: even in the deepest, stillest darkness, there’s almost always a hint of light, if we let ourselves see it.

That sliver of moonlight reminded me that it’s not about waiting for brightness to return—it’s about allowing ourselves to notice even the smallest glimmer. A little bit of light can go a long way. It can soften the edges, guide us forward, and remind us that darkness, no matter how complete it seems, is never quite as solid as it feels.

Let a little light in. It’s good for the soul.

XOXO, Jani

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